


the doctor is (s)in

by corsica



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Gen, Humor, will add new chapters periodically until i cant think of anything funny anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corsica/pseuds/corsica
Summary: Sessyoin Kiara: Beast of Humanity. Cultist leader. Master hacker. Licensed and certified therapist.
Comments: 86
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i did not play se.ra.ph when it originally ran but i do know that OG fgo kiara was a trained clinical psychologist and even though her personality got overwritten i feel like we're all sleeping too much on this information. you can get your sermon about the enlightenment of hedonism and your prescription for lexapro all in once place!

“...So, as you can see, though we have many Servants trained for both healing of the magical variety and for standard medical procedures, we are sorely lacking in personnel that specialize in mental healthcare,” Holmes nods, “With a bit of digging, we came across the information that you are a trained counselor, and as such, that is why we have called you here.”

Kiara places her hand gently against her chest.

“You...are aware of who I am, correct?”

“Oh, yeah, no, we absolutely read your file,” Da Vinci says, emphatically, “We just...don't have anybody else who can take over. Some of the Servants are _really_ going through it right now.”

Kiara goes silent.

...This is an opportunity handed to her on the most silver of platters.

By simply saying yes, she knows that, while perhaps not everyone here would trust her with her attempts at guidance, there are almost certainly those desperate enough for any help they could get. It would be so easy to pick on their insecurities, molding them and breaking them down into whatever she sees fit until they reach the point where they are to be discarded once they no longer fulfill any sort of pleasure for her. It would be sublime.

...But deep, deep down inside of her, quiet but resonant, there is a voice that says _'I did not spend 4 years in grad school and 14 months on a thesis paper for it to go to waste'._

So she nods.

This is going to be...different.

“I humbly accept. However...I will need my own space to work.”

***

“Hahaha! It's true! I cannot believe—.”

Whatever Anderson says gets cut off with a laugh so uproarious it has him bending over and slapping his knee. Kiara can only give a beleaguered sigh in response.

_'It would be so easy to simply crush him like a bug. No one would have to know.'_

But the vow she made to Ritsuka sticks in her mind, so she takes a handful of centering, meditative breaths before she turns and speaks to the wretched little man before her.

“I am glad you find my rearranging of furniture so amusing, Anderson.”

He wipes away a tear from his eye and smirks at her.

“Spare me! I think we both know that _you_ playing the role of a saint is what has me in such side-splitting laughter.”

“Say what you will. Your words mean nothing to me,” she steps down from the stool she was using to hang up a painting, “If you have nothing more to do than to jeer at me, I imagine you're far enough ahead in your manuscripts that you can spare this time you're wasting.”

Anderson scowls, but doesn't refute her.

“Tsk...enjoy the fact that you're right for once. But don't think you have _me_ fooled with your altruism act, Kiara.”

“That's Dr. Sessyoin to you,” she smiles sweetly at him, “Now Anderson, if there's nothing else, would you like to schedule an appointment with me? I believe it may be prudent to discuss the alcoholism that so plagues you, as it did in life.”

Anderson glares bitterly at her, but finally leaves her be, huffing and swearing under his breath as he makes his way back to his room. Kiara can't help but feel just a touch smug, and she hums happily to herself as she continues getting things in order.

***

“...But once Master fixed the Singularity in Orleans, I have rarely been put on the front line,” Kojiro says, “While I am far from the only Servant this has happened to, she summoned Leonidas and I within roughly the same time frame, and yet he has been deployed far more than I ever have post-Orleans. It is difficult to not be disappointed.”

“You have found yourself with an ample amount of time,” she nods, “Which has given thoughts of self-doubt to fester. But just because your specific role has ended does not mean it will never be needed again, nor does it mean you won't be able to find another role to fill in the future. It simply means that what has ended, has ended.”

“I see...”

“May I ask how you spend your days here?”

“...I meditate, often. And train, when I am able to find a sparring partner.”

“I suggest you find something more constructive to do with your time, Assassin,” she smiles at him, “Indeed, I would be perfectly happy filling your days with sermons that will lead you down the path to enlightenment. I can show you pleasure beyond compare.”

Kojiro blinks, “Oh. Forgive me, but, I'm afraid I must decline.”

Kiara goes quiet for a moment.

“...Perhaps take up painting, then?”

***

“...She's just _so—!”_

Jeanne Alter grabs at her hair and pulls.

“How can she be so smiley all the time? And so nice?! _And why does she still keep calling me her sister?!”_

“It seems she cares for you in spite of your wishes.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she crosses her legs and falls back against the couch in a huff, “Where the hell does she get off caring about _me?!_ I'm her _Alter!_ And not just an Alter, but a fake!”

“There's nothing that says a fake can't be as good as the original,” Kiara says, “You are surely able to become your own person. And is it truly so wrong for her to care about you?”

_“Yes! Because I'm evil and I hate her!”_

She bangs her hand on the couch, and in her irritation, has caused a light scorch mark to appear on the cloth.

Kiara stays quiet for a moment before she reaches down and opens a drawer in her desk.

“...It might be a good idea to work on managing your anger,” she holds out a piece of paper towards Jeanne Alter, “This is a handout on calming breathing techniques.”

The paper lights on fire in her hand, turning to nothing but ash.

Kiara clears her throat.

“...Well. I believe this session is over.”

***

They have done nothing but stare at each other ever since he came in to sit down. It's been five minutes.

Arjuna opens his mouth, then closes it.

“...No. My apologies, but I'm not doing this.”

His cape flutters as he stands from the couch, and Kiara watches as he grabs the knob and goes through the door, leaving it hanging open as he leaves.

“That was quick. Did it not go well?”

“Karna, this was a _ridiculous_ idea.”

“I thought it could help. For someone so incredibly amoral, I have heard nothing but good things about her counseling skills.”

Arjuna splutters, “What—What did you think I would possibly gain from this?!”

“...I'm not sure, but...you have a surplus of issues that need to be worked out.”  
  
 _“A surplus of—.”_

Kiara leans to the side so her voice will travel better.

“My door is always open. I am also capable of doing family sessions.”

Karna pokes his head through the doorway.

“Oh, thank you. That may prove useful.”

She hears Arjuna let out a loud, frustrated noise, and the sound of footsteps stomping off.

***

“Wow, you've really been working hard!”

Kiara stops writing and looks up to see Ritsuka standing in the doorway and holding a plate of ohagi.

“My, my...are those for me, Master?”

“Oh well, yeah,” she says, “I figured I'd do something nice for you in exchange for what you're doing for everyone here.”

Kiara feels her face grow flush, and she places her hand against her cheek.

“Such a kind gesture for someone such as myself...” she turns her head away in embarrassment, “I could not ask for a more noble and caring Master...”

Ritsuka looks off to the side, and scratches the back of her neck.

“...uh-huh. Anyway.”

She sets the plate of ohagi on Kiara's desk before stepping back, and her gaze turns to the couch, lingering on it.

Kiara notices, and folds her hands on her desk, “...Is there something you wished to speak about, my dear Master?”

“Well...I mean, I don't want to bother you. I might be intruding on somebody who scheduled this time with you.”

“I have no such appointment,” she says, “Should you wish my time to be yours, then it is yours.”

Ritsuka hums in contemplation.

“...If it's not an intrusion, then...there are some things I'd like to get off my chest.”

She goes over to the couch and sits down, and Kiara immediately feels a turmoil within her. It is the perfect chance, the most golden opportunity given to her, to finally be able to drag Ritsuka into depravity, to show her the ultimate celestial pleasure. To see that nobility become tainted...it would be wonderful.

“I really appreciate you doing this, Kiara,” Ritsuka smiles brightly at her, “Really.”

...But the thought of breaking her trust is a surprisingly bitter taste.

She made a vow, Kiara thinks, and she will adhere to it. That is the decision she has made, and so it is a decision she will stick to.

And the longer this goes on, the sweeter it will be when she finally succumbs.

So she returns Ritsuka's smile and gestures towards her.

“Feel free to start wherever you'd like, Master.”


	2. Chapter 2

“...I do admit that this is not something I had ever seen myself doing,” Kiara wrinkles her nose as Dantès lights up a cigarette, “But it is simply becoming too arduous to keep to myself.”

“Where would you like to start?”

He takes a deep inhale of smoke before turning his head and blowing it out, the cloud dissipating into the air.

“I consider myself no different from the other Servants in that I am extremely fond of Ritsuka. She is an idiot, but in a way that I cannot help but find endearing,” he holds the cigarette between two fingers as he looks down at his feet, troubled, “But as I am in a position that is somewhat unique compared to the other Servants, I am finding my patience...wearing thin.”

He meets her eye.

“You are no doubt aware that her charm has drawn many allies to her side...including those that were originally against her,” Kiara begins to open her mouth to speak, but Dantès interrupts her before she can, “And yes, I am aware of who you are and what you did. We Avengers seem to be averse to our memories being scrambled in any way...I assume it's because it would make our hate less easy to cling to were we able to so easily forget. You have been in multiple dreams Ritsuka has had, and not the kind that I know you would want to be in.

“But I digress. While her seemingly supernatural ability to bring once enemies to her side has been nothing but useful, the latest turncoat has me questioning her logic.”

“...I admit I find it difficult to keep up with who has been summoned and when. Could you enlighten me on who you're referring to?”

“Ashiya Douman,” Dantès says, and his eyes narrow, “He was a dangerous enemy in Shimousa, where I personally intervened to help keep her safe...so imagine my surprise when I go to the cafeteria yesterday, and see the two of them sitting across from each other and laughing about something, as if there was never any bad blood at all,” he takes another drag from his cigarette before blowing out the smoke, “...Excuse my profanity, but. What. The _fuck.”_

“You feel your efforts are underappreciated, then?”

“...Not exactly.”

Kiara folds her hands, “Then what is causing you this trouble?”

Dantès takes another long inhale of his cigarette and when he exhales out the smoke, he has never looked so weary.

“I don't think you will ever understand just how jarring it is to see one of Ritsuka's sleep paralysis demons being coaxed into trying Cup Ramen.”

***

“You...” Kiara narrows her eyes, and her voice comes off as concerned despite the fact that she's mostly confused, “Are you alright?”

“Please just let me stay here for a moment,” Lord El-Melloi II says, with visible bags under his eyes, “Half the reason I booked this session was so I could stay off the battlefield for a little bit. I know this is around the time Ritsuka goes out for material gathering and I _need a break.”_

“I believe you should be bringing that up to her, and not me.”

“It won't work, because technically there's nothing wrong with me. I'm full on mana,” he says, “I know Skadi is off hiding somewhere, too...but we can only delay the inevitable for so long,” he rubs his temples, “This is not a physical exhaustion. This is an exhaustion I feel deep in my soul.”

“Perhaps vocalizing it will help relieve some of that so-called exhaustion.”

“Just the constant—.” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Boost the team, switch formation, Noble Phantasm, battle over. Boost the team, switch formation, Noble Phantasm, battle over. Boost the team, switch formation, Noble Phantasm, battle over,” El-Melloi II's bottom eyelids pull down as he rubs both of his hands down his face, “It's the same thing over and _over_ again. I don't know _any_ of the Servants who have been summoned within the past several months _because she takes me out into battle so much that I can't do anything else.”_

Kiara watches as his eyes widen in primal fear.

“Oh God, she's asking me where I am through the bond,” he stands and heads towards the door, “I—I'm sorry, but I can't stay here, she'll find me. _Please,_ don't tell her I was here.”

He scurries out the door and down the hall before Kiara is able to say anything else, and barely five minutes later she sees Ritsuka coming down the hall. Her Master pokes her head in the door, bright orange hair falling towards her left shoulder as she leans in.

“Hey, have you seen Zhuge Liang anywhere? I needed to go on a rayshift ten minutes ago and I can't find him anywhere.”

“Ah...the long-haired, male Caster?” Ritsuka nods, “Yes, he was here. He left that way,” Kiara says, and points towards the way he went.

“Hey, thanks! I appreciate it.”

Kiara nods as Ritsuka leaves. Not much later, while she has her head down, looking at her notes, she catches a cheerful Ritsuka walking down the hall with a visibly miserable Lord El-Melloi II in tow.

***

Mash glares angrily at Lancelot as they sit on the couch, and Kiara can see the beads of sweat rolling down his face.

He takes a sideways glance at Mash before clearing his throat to speak.

“...You seem like a lovely woman, Dr. Sessyoin—.”

“Oh, you're really doing this, _aren't you?!”_ Mash snaps, and folds her arms across her chest, “Right here, right now?! Now I see why you wanted to do this—not to make yourself a better father, or to try and make up for your past mistakes, no, you just wanted to _hit on an available woman!”_

“Th—That's not—.”

“Scum! Absolute lowest of the low!”

“Mash, please—.”

“Your Berserker form is a better father than you'll ever be _and he can't even say my name!_ He calls me “Arthur” but at least _he_ remembered when my _birthday_ was!”

“Sh-She does this whenever I even get near her,” Lancelot says, the tone of his voice taking on a desperate quality, and he gestures towards Mash, “I've been trying to mend things but it seems I'm not even being given the chance...”

Mash huffs as she adjusts her glasses, “I was perfectly willing to give you a chance and then you _hit on the therapist!”_

“I wasn't...”

His voice trails off sheepishly as Mash shoots him an icy glare.

“It seems you take issue with a number of things he has done to you or choices he has made,” Kiara smiles, “Perhaps take this time to release everything that you've been feeling towards him? Releasing that anger will eventually allow you to calmly see the path forward.”

Lancelot pales, “Oh please, no—.”

Mash leaps to her feet and begins to shout as many variations of “Deadbeat Dad” to him as she can, for the whole hour, and while Kiara is aware she should be taking notes and giving advice...she thinks to herself that she has earned the right to indulge, just this once.


	3. Chapter 3

When Emiya sits down on the couch, looking much less worse for wear than he did last week for his previous session, there is a visceral repulsion Kiara feels as she's reminded of his Alter.

But he is not his Alter, and though a desire begins to creep up within her, the desire to guide him in a way that lets her watch him crash and burn, a voice tugs her back and reminds her that she is a _professional,_ and those years in grad school spent living on nothing but coffee and energy drinks are going to be put to _use._

So she folds her hands on her desk, and takes a deep breath.

“You seem much better than you were last time.”

“Oh, yeah. Things have been less stressful,” he rubs at his arm, exposed due to the black tank top he wears, “That pamphlet on EMDR techniques really helped a lot. I didn't realize that just breathing a certain way would help so much, but it really did. I was surprised.”

“Wonderful. Were you able to begin setting boundaries, like we discussed?”

“...Uh, well. Actually,” Emiya leans forward and clasps his hands together, “Here's the thing. I was fully prepared to—Ishtar especially was being a real pain, and I had it planned what I was going to say to her. “I need space to myself, please come talk to me at this time if you really need to see me for something”, all that stuff. But...out of nowhere, she started leaving me alone of her own volition.”

“Oh?”

“Not just her—Parvati, Kama, Artoria— _all_ the Artorias—have been leaving me be. I was honestly kind of worried that I did something wrong given how quickly it all happened, but...”

“Did you?”

“No—No, not at all. I found out that it wasn't anything I did, or that I even could've done.”

Kiara hums, “What caused this abrupt shift, then? Have you found out?”

Emiya stays silent for a moment, eyes glancing off towards the side, visibly hesitating on whether he should talk. After what feels like an eternity, he tips his head up, and sighs.

“...Have you met Senji Muramasa yet?”

***

“So you see...It seems that I truly failed her as a mentor. With how she turned out, with how everything turned out, in the end...I feel as if I may be the one who bears responsibility.”

Kiara rubs her temples.

“No, you don't,” her gaze is distinctly annoyed as she looks at Merlin, “And you refused to let me get a word in for an entire half hour. Did you come here just to waste my time?”

“How rude!” Merlin says, but the offense he takes is quickly and easily replaced with a playful smile, “I admit there is some guilt I hold towards how things turned out with her, but...I am embellishing how I feel just a _teensy_ bit. It's hard to hold too much guilt when you're not entirely human. I can only relate to them so much.”

“I believe it is well-known around here that you are a sociopath.”

“Well isn't that the pot calling the kettle black,” his playful smile becomes smug, “But I assure you, I did have a point in coming here. I'm not trying to waste your time. Call it an icebreaker.”

She closes her eyes and sighs, placing two fingers on her forehead, “An icebreaker? Would you care to elaborate on that?”

“I believe you're aware that the other half of my genetics comes from having an incubus for a father. Those instincts haven't gone away as long as I've been alive, not even during my...” he stops talking for a moment to think, “...my time LARPing as a Servant. And there are so few options available here! My right hand can only do so much, you know,” he huffs, “It's quite the pain to have to deal with! So I was hoping we could work something out."

Kiara freezes.

_'...is he...'_

She becomes nothing short of flabbergasted.

“Are you _propositioning_ me?!”

 _“I'm_ half-incubus and need to scratch this itch, _you're...”_ he gestures vaguely, “...all that. It works out for both of us,” she pinches the bridge of her nose as Merlin continues to talk, “Nobody here wants anything to do with me! They treat me as if I'm just the worst.”

“Because you are,” she responds flatly.

“Wow, you don't mince your words. Even Anderson is better than me? I know how you feel about him.”

“I may loathe Anderson but at the very least I can admit that he's a talented writer,” her eyes narrow as she looks at him, “And need I remind you of the time Ritsuka took us on a rayshift together, and after being severely injured, you refused to cast a healing spell on me because “the incantation was too long” and that I would be “completely fine”?”

Merlin looks her up and down.

“...Well, you are, aren't you?”

She points to the door.

“Get out.”

“So that's a no—?”

_“Get out.”_

***

“...and it's been a _week_ since I've been here, and these girls won't leave me the _hell_ alone,” Muramasa says, falling back against the couch in a heap, “A week! How many damn versions of that blonde girl are there?! Because they all want to be around me! I've been trying to talk to Ibuki-Douji for as long as I've been here, ask her about her sword because—well, it's the Sword of Kusanagi! How could I not want to ask her about it?! But I can't get a moment to _myself,”_ he runs his hands down his face, “And it's not just the ten thousand different incarnations of that blonde girl, either. Parvati, Kama, Ishtar, those three won't leave me alone! I'm starting to regret even answering Ritsuka's summon if _this_ is how it's going to be. I have to keep diving into dark hallways to avoid them—I can't cook! Why do they keep asking me to cook for them?! I just want to be left alone!”

Kiara opens her mouth to speak, “Well, that's—.”

_“And who the hell is Shirou?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kiara "i would fuck anything and everything but even i draw the line at merlin" sessyoin


	4. Chapter 4

Kiara is unsurprised to see Ritsuka come in once again; her Master has been through so much, and there are many things that she still needs to get off her chest. It has been nothing short of difficult to not fall to temptation, but Kiara's resolve to do her best for her Master has not broken, and she will not let it.

“So I've been thinking about Dr. Roman again, lately...” Ritsuka wraps her arms around herself, looking up at Kiara hesitantly, “I think I've already told you about him?”

“Yes,” Kiara says, “The previous acting Director of Chaldea. He perished before I was summoned.”

“That's right, yeah,” she brushes her bangs out of her face and sighs, “It's still hard. I didn't think it would still be this hard after all this time, but...it really is. I've adjusted to him not being here, but whenever his favorite food gets served in the cafeteria, or if I hear a song that I know he liked, it always...it just stings a little. He watched over Mash, watched over me...He felt like my dad sometimes.”

“Grief does not ever truly stop,” Kiara starts, “At the beginning, when it hurts the most, it is like a ball in a large box, constantly pressing against a button that makes you hurt. As time goes on, the ball shrinks, but it does not go away, and you will find that even years after the fact it will still be there, able to hit that button when you least expect it,” Ritsuka looks up at her with slightly misty eyes, “In the future, take the time to prepare a space for yourself where you are able to properly grieve.”

“...Okay. I'll do my best,” she sniffs, and wipes at the corners of her eyes, “It's just frustrating...there's so much I wish I could tell him. There's so much I want to ask him. It just isn't fair.”

Kiara clasps her hands together on her desk, “What would you ask him, if he were here?”

“I wanted to know more about his life as King Solomon. I wanted to ask him what his kingdom was like, what his people were like. But more than anything...” Ritsuka narrows her eyes, “...I want to ask him what the _hell_ was up with him offering to cut that baby in half.”

***

“Like, I talked to Asclepius about it, but he said everything checked out alright, soooo...” Suzuka swings her legs back and forth on the couch, “I guess maybe I've got brain problems instead?”

Kiara closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, because having to parse through Suzuka's way of speaking is going to be headache inducing.

“What “problems” are you having?”

“Alright. So, like,” she leans back against the couch and crosses one leg over the other, “I've been trying to get a totes cool boyfriend ever since I've been here, yeah? But all the guys here so freakin' lame! Like, Gilgamesh is handsome, but his personality _totally_ sucks. Or they're, like, a total ten-out-of-ten, but they already simp for Ritsuka, and I have _no_ chance of getting them to look _my_ way in that case. This is _not_ how I wanted my life as a JK to go!”

“How unfortunate...”

 _“I know!_ But I think I like, realized that I was trying to kind of like...force it? And that if I'm gonna get a super cute BF then I need to just, y'know, let it happen naturally! Soulmates are bound to meet each other eventually! So I'm basically, like, trying to get to know people here instead. Make some real BFFs! And it's been, like, totes poggers so far.”

The grin Suzuka wears slowly slides off to form a frown, and she begins to look somewhat confused.

“...But like...one of the first people here I became friends with was Hokusai, 'cuz we had that adventure together with Ritsuka in that weird dreamscape thing? So it was mega easy to just jump right into being friendly with her when she got summoned. But now it's like, she's the only person I want to be around? When we hang out it's like, I totally forget that I should even be looking for a cute guy to be DTF with. And I keep getting so _flustered_ around her—like, what the hell is that about?!” she glances at Kiara, “I thought I'd gotten, like, cursed or something when Ritsuka last took me out on a fight, but Asclepius gave me a clean bill of health then told me to GTFO of his office,” her voice drops to a low, concerned whisper, “Is this some new, like...mental illness, or something? Should people know about this?”

Kiara has to take a moment to collect herself. The thought of _'is she honestly being serious'_ comes into Kiara's head, and with the way Suzuka looks at her, eyes gone large and worried as she nervously chews her bottom lip, confirms to Kiara that, yes, regrettably, Suzuka is being entirely sincere.

She closes her eyes, and lets out a quiet sigh.

“...There is nothing wrong with you, Suzuka. You are just bisexual.”

Suzuka takes in the information, and then nods to herself slowly as the realization hits.

_“Oohhhhhhhh...”_

***

“I—I am going to spend some time by myself for an hour...please...please don't interrupt me in that time.”

Kiara shakes her head.

“You must be firm when you say it to him.”

Pollux steels herself and nods, breathing in deeply.

“I see. Let me give it another attempt...” she closes her eyes and takes a moment to center herself, “I am going to spend some time by myself for an hour, please—.”

_“Sister!”_

There is a furious pounding on the door, and Castor's voice rings out prominently. Pollux buries her head in her hands.

“I have been looking everywhere for you! Are you in there? I thought I heard your voice!”

Kiara shoots a glare towards the door.

“I am _with_ _someone_ right now,” she says, annoyance dripping from every syllable.

“I know what I heard! You'd best open this door, lest I break it down!”

Kiara holds one of her hands up, a purple glow emanating from it. A demon pillar tendril big enough to block the door spawns from beneath the floor, and should he follow through on his promise as he impatiently jiggles the locked door handle, he will at least be stopped by this.

As soon as the people she counsels step out of her office, she loses any obligation to them, save when they're on the battlefield together. But for now, Pollux is here, and Castor trying to barge in without either of their permission is _just_ the most _disrespectful thing._

His banging only becomes more insistent, and more forceful, and Kiara closes her eyes as she visualizes the hallway he stands in outside of her office. Another tendril appears, and the pounding on the door abruptly stops as the tendril begins whacking him on the head over and over.

 _“Augh_ —Ow, _ow!”_ she hears him grunting in pain, “Stop! _Stop that!”_

“Leave at once.”

“Not until I—!” Castor yelps as it only starts to hit him harder, “Rgh— _Fine!_ I will go look _elsewhere!”_

He storms off in a huff, his frustrated grumbling becoming more and more distant. The glow in Kiara's hand dies down and the pillars disappear, and when she turns her attention back to Pollux, she is giving Kiara a look of exhaustion. When she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper.

“...I believe that was a good example of the boundary problems I mentioned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont think kiara's powers work that way but i want to believe


	5. Chapter 5

“Listen, I'm willing to put everything that happened on the Moon Cell behind us right now, because I need to _vent.”_

Kiara furrows her eyebrows, and regards Tamamo curiously, “I...don't recall ever meeting you.”

“Wh—.” Tamamo tugs at her hair, “Are you kidding me?! Who the hell did Hakuno have as his Servant, then?!”

“...Hakuno was not a man,” Kiara corrects her, “And she had contracted with the horrible Mesopotamian king.”

“ _Augh!”_ she slams her fist on the couch, “This is the exact sort of thing that's been pissing me off! The cute, amazing Tamamo-chan keeps getting shunted off to the side!” she huffs, “Did you know I was the premier Arts support? Stalling-based strategies aren't _fun,_ but it gets the job done! But then— _then!_ There's apparently _another_ version of Artoria that exists as a _Caster,_ so now Ritsuka never takes me out! As if it wasn't already bad enough that Nero keeps upstaging me as the face of the Fate/Extra franchise, now I have to deal with being upstaged by _someone who looks just like her!”_

“What else has been—.”

“Oh wait, I was _wrong,”_ Tamamo interrupts whatever Kiara was going to say, oozing resentment, “Ritsuka _does_ take me out, but only so I can cast some buffs and then get _exploded by Chen Gong!”_ she crosses her arms, “...Skadi and Waver also have that problem but at least they get put on the front line more than I do. But how am I supposed to compete with _Ignore Ignore Invincibility?!”_

Kiara waits for a moment to see if Tamamo is done speaking, and when all she does is sit angrily on the couch with a scowl on her face, she clears her throat.

“It would be a good thing to shift your focus to the things that only you can do.”

Tamamo's scowl deepens.

“Well, I _was_ the only Servant here who had cute kitsune appeal, but then _Suzuka_ got summoned and—she's not even a kitsune! She gave herself those ears to—to...Well, I don't know what “kin drama” is but she said she was going to start it with me, and now she's doing everything she can to beat me at my own game!

“And she's _winning,”_ Tamamo grits her teeth, “Because she has a _girlfriend_ now and _I'm still single!”_

***

“...I don't know why she made me come here.”

Assassin Emiya has bags under the bags under his eyes as he stares up at Kiara, who reads the note Ritsuka gave her, that says “Please Help This Poor Man” at the very top. The words are underlined several times for emphasis, and beneath it, is a list that is _much_ too long, full of things that a person with crippling depression would do.

...There are a few points that immediately jump out at her.

“You asked her “Do you ever regret being born?” on her birthday.”

“Is there a problem with that?”

She reaches for a pen and writes on a post-it note _“get higher dose of anti-depressants from Asclepius”_ before she continues to scan over the piece of paper. At one specific bullet point, Kiara places the note down, and closes her eyes. When they open, she tents her fingers on her desk, and fixes him an even stare.

“May I ask why you gifted our Master a loaded Calico M950 as a return gift on Valentine's Day?”

“I don't expect her to use it,” he says, “And I don't have much. The gun was a spare.”

“Does Da Vinci's shop not carry _flowers?”_

“Do I look like a man who has QP.”

She can't argue with that, but... “You said you don't expect her to use it...but you still gave her a loaded gun. At the very least, am I correct in assuming that you instructed her in basic gun handling?” she pauses, “Or did you give Ritsuka, the person we all rely on for manifestation, a loaded gun, then neglect to show her how to even turn the safety on?”

“…”

There is an extended pause where Emiya does nothing but stare down at the floor. However, the silence is eventually broken as he takes a long, deep breath. Slowly, and wordlessly, he stands up from the couch, and walks towards the door. Their session has barely started, but Kiara has no intention of keeping people in her office if they don't want to be, so she makes no move to stop him as he opens the door and steps out into the hallway.

She is unsurprised as she hears him start to sprint in the direction towards Ritsuka's room.

***

“So you see...” Brynhildr shifts about nervously on the couch, “I—I can't seem to control myself when I'm around Sigurd, or people that remind me of Sigurd...” she shrinks in on herself, “There are so many righteous Servants here...it's almost every day that Ritsuka summons somebody new that reminds me of my husband, and then I...”

“You said this curse was entwined with your heroic legend?”

Brynhildr nods, and Kiara narrows her eyes.

“...I see. I'm afraid that I must admit...I am...unsure as to how much help I will be able to offer you, in that case,” she starts, “I do not know how effective I will be at helping you to tamp something like that down.”

“I—I'll take anything I can get,” she says quietly, “It's difficult...my husband is so close, and not only do I have these urges around him, but any Servant that has the same heroic nature he does—.” Brynhildr's eyes widen in fear, “Oh...Oh no...”

There is muffled talking from two distinct voices approaching the room, and Brynhildr visibly struggles against herself, but the instinct takes over in spite of how hard she fights it, and she summons her spear, an expression of horrible pain on her face as she steps out of the room. Kiara is aware of where this is going, and so she stands up and follows her, leaning against the door frame as she spectates on everything that will unfold, because she is not going to deny herself something that's going to be this amusing.

Brynhildr has tears in the corners of her eyes as she approaches them, “I'm...I'm so sorry!”

Karna turns, “Oh, Brynhildr— _gh...”_

She pulls her spear out from where she stabbed him in the rib, and he falls to the ground clutching the wound. Arjuna backs up in shock, his eyes going down to his writhing brother, then up at Brynhildr, in complete shock.

“Wha— _Why did you just stab him?!”_ he shouts at her, then looks back down at his brother, “And isn't your armor supposed to make you nearly invincible?!”

“Not...against her...” he wheezes.

“I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!” she holds her hand up to her mouth, “I—I didn't think this would happen a fifth time!”

“Fifth time?! What do you mean, _fifth time?!”_

“Is the...urge gone...?” Karna manages to crack his eyes open to look at Brynhildr, who nods, “Then I'm glad...I could help...once more...”

"You're _letting her_ stab you?!"

"It's...the least I can do..."

_"Why are you like this?!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but why does red hare have brynhildr's beloved as a trait.


	6. Chapter 6

“It's difficult being as distrusted as I am,” Amakusa sighs, “Even Semiramis...I love her dearly, but even she has some distrust of me that won't fully go away.”

“You have betrayed our Master for the chance to get at the Greater Grail before.”

“Yes, but that is not who I want to be. “The Servant who is always after the grail”, that is not who I always want to be known as. And”—he looks pointedly at Kiara—“she has more trust in Servants that I personally believe she shouldn't. But that's nothing more than a matter of opinion.”

Kiara regards him with a blank stare.

“I wish to see Ritsuka fall to depravity, but I am aware of what my desires are and take ownership of them. Now please, I would greatly enjoy hearing why our Master should hold more trust in you, considering you have tied your cape up and are carrying...I'd estimate around fifteen grails.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Kiara snaps her fingers, and a Demon Pillar tendril comes down from the ceiling, giving Amakusa a little shove, and grails begin to clink out of his cape one by one, falling to the floor.

“...Whoops! Where did those come from, haha!”

***

“...So her husband may be a mechanical abomination of a man, but she is at least _with_ her husband,” Rama says bitterly, “But I am happy for Yu Mei-Ren. I am.”

Kiara glances up at him.

“Forgive me, but you don't sound very happy.”

 _“I am! I'm truly very happy for her!”_ the words come out through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, _“I_ certainly wouldn't wish to see my beloved Sita in a state like that, but to each their own! Yu Mei-Ren is _with her husband_ and she has _never been happier._ Good for her. Good for _her.”_

Rama sits back against the couch, stewing. Kiara watches him for a few minutes; the atmosphere in the room shifts as she keeps her eyes on him, feeling him doing nothing except becoming more and more irate, and eventually, he cannot stifle it down any more.

“...Do you know what the odds were of Sigurd being summoned?!” he snaps, “Brynhildr had spoken about it before! She said her reunion with her husband was going to be “virtually impossible” and that she had “given up hope long ago of ever seeing him again” but _incredibly,_ she was able to serve as a summoning catalyst for him! But me, oh no, _I_ am to be eternally denied ever seeing the love of my life again!”

She clears her throat, “If I may, I'm not entirely sure how happy their reunion is, given how often she seems to stab him, and how he is only managing to survive through what amounts to sheer force of will.”

 _“Well, at least stabbing and being stabbed is something they are able to do together!”_ he scoffs, “And she has stabbed me before, and it was barely stronger than a bee's sting! Do you know how many times I have seen her stab Karna? Too many! Evidently, she must not be putting her full weight behind it. If all that Saber has to deal with is some piddly puncture wounds, then he is living much more happily than _some of us.”_

There is a pause. Rama's anger shifts to misery, and he leans forward on the couch, burying his head in his hands. He groans loudly.

“... _Why_ am I unable to go back in time so I can _strangle_ my younger self...how could I have been so _stupid._ This punishment, this curse...it has brought me nothing but agony,” he sighs, “...I miss my wife, Doctor. I miss her a lot,” he stands, his demeanor sullen as he heads towards the door, “I'll be back.”

“Shall I schedule you for the usual time next week, then?”

He has already rounded the corner by the time she asks, but she hears a distinct and irritated _“yes!”,_ and she marks it down on her calendar.

***

“I mean things aren't really _bad,”_ Musashi says, crossing one of her legs, “I'm glad I'm here! I'm glad I get to serve as a representative of Chaldea to all the...weird-ass places I get teleported to. But it's kind of a bummer to not have the chance to spend more time with Ritsuka.”

“How often do these...shifts happen?”

“Jeez, I have no idea. It's pretty random, and I gave up on trying to predict when it'll happen. I get a feeling right before it's about to happen, but I can't tell preemptively. It's not like there's a set schedule, or anything!” she sighs and shakes her head, “I've gotten used to going with the flow, but it's always weird coming back here and seeing how things have...changed.”

Musashi squints at her, and hums in contemplation.

“For one, I didn't expect a Servant to be put on staff as a therapist. Especially not one so, uh...” she turns her head to the side as her cheeks begin to heat up, and Musashi brings her hand up to cover her increasingly vivid face, “So _voluptuous.”_

“My, my...that's quite the compliment, Miss Musashi. You flatter me.”

“Oh! Sorry, I should probably make myself more clear!” Musashi laughs nervously, “I'm not just trying to flatter you. I'm also hitting on you. You're _really_ my type,” Musashi's eyes dart up to look at the clock above Kiara's head, “We've still got half an hour, that should be plenty of time, right?”

Kiara blinks.

...This isn't usually how this sort of thing goes. Both her sessions proper and in...these types of situations. It's hard to not be caught a little off-guard.

Her vow to Ritsuka sticks in her mind. She knows she's not supposed to take in new believers, but...Musashi doesn't really seem to want or need _guidance,_ and even then, she seems a bit too dim-witted to be brought in by any of Kiara's usual platitudes. Plus, the look Musashi is giving her is less the look of “this is a Goddess who can lead me to salvation” that she's used to getting and more “girl hot”. One time, no-strings attached sex shouldn't really _do_ anything to draw her in.

It probably doesn't even count as breaking her vow, does it?

The stare Musashi is giving her turns into a heady leer, and she makes a V-shape with her fingers in front of her mouth, sticking her tongue through the space, flicking it up and down as she maintains eye contact with Kiara.

…

No, it probably doesn't count.

Kiara stands, and tugs her veil off, laughing softly, “Mmm, so you desire salvation with this body of mine...” her hair spills out past her shoulders once her coif is loose, “Thirty minutes is ample time for me. Shall I lead you to enlightenment, Miss Musashi?”

“Lady, with those F-Cups of yours, you can lead me to _wherever_ you want.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heavily debated not making another chapter because, at time of writing, this fic has 69 comments and that's just...[chef's kiss] but alas, i thought of more dumb things to write.

“I shouldn't be here,” Nightingale says with a huff, and she crosses her arms beneath her chest, “It's absurd that Ritsuka is making me do this. This facility still needs to be sanitized. We don't know if the Wandering Sea has asbestos.”

Kiara lets that sit for a moment.

“…No, I believe we would know by now.”

“You're being too complacent. That's disappointing, given that you're also in the field of keeping people healthy, albeit in a different way than I am,” Nightingale narrows her eyes, “Ritsuka has been coughing more than usual lately. It could be mesothelioma. Humanity is gone; she would not be able to get financial compensation were she to receive a diagnosis,” Nightingale pauses, “And I would have to remove her lungs. But she always seems to be in need of QP, so I assume the lack of compensation would be more upsetting to her.”

“It's good to keep an eye on our Master, but, if I have heard correctly, she has spoken to Asclepius about it, and it was a simple cold that he was able to abate with healing magic.”

“Hmph. Asclepius may be my peer, but there is still much he does not know.”

“He is the Greek God of Medicine,” Kiara takes a second to think, “Truly, of all the other people here, I'm at a loss at who could possibly know more than him.”

“His Godliness does not grant him omniscience,” Nightingale huffs, “And in spite of where his domain lies, he does not even carry penicillin.”

“He is capable of resurrecting the dead,” she looks at Nightingale with skepticism, “Is penicillin really necessary at that point?”

“How else am I supposed to keep people from getting infected after I perform an amputation?”

“Who here do you think is going to need an amputation?”

“Well,” Nightingale looks at her steadily, “You, perhaps.”

Kiara breathes in, and out.

“…I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

***

“Servants are summoned in the prime of their lives, correct?!” Moriarty starts, “Why is the prime of _my_ life in my middle ages?! Why does Holmes get to be young and spry but I have to continuously deal with _lumbar pain?!”_

“…And again, while that must be quite the disappointment, it would be a good idea to focus on what it is around you that you can control,” Kiara says, biting back a sigh over what has since become a repeating topic during their sessions, “While it must be frustrating for your rival to be in better physical shape than you are, there are no doubt things that you have over him. Can you name something?”

“Hm…” A light bulb goes off over Moriarty's head, and he smirks, “Ah! Well, you see, I may be addicted to doing evil deeds, but at the very least, I am not addicted to the absolute concoction of cocaine and opium that Holmes seems to so desperately crave!”

“That—.” Kiara's eyebrows furrow, “Wait, what?”

Moriarty does nothing to clear up Kiara's confusion, “Ha! One of us is able to function as a Servant with nothing but mana alone! Take _that,_ Holmes!” his joy is short-lived, though, and his lips soon curl down into a troubled frown, “But, if I'm being honest, that's actually not the main issue that plagues me this time,” he looks up at her, “Ritsuka has been avoiding me, you see. I have been wracking my brain for what I could have possibly done to cause her to become so distant, given that she is always so considerate towards us Servants, but…”

“You have not confronted her about this?”

“She has become very good at slipping away from me. It's quite disheartening, actually,” his frown deepens, eyes growing melancholic, “I am aware that I have sometimes, er…proposed ideas that she isn't exactly a fan of, but when that happens she is usually quick to decline what I bring up without incident. She usually only avoids one of us Servants if she is truly upset at us and needs time to process what to do, and if that's the case here, I wish she would simply tell me.”

“Then it would be a good idea to—.”

She's interrupted with a knock on the door, and the knob turns. Ritsuka pokes her head in, out of breath and panting.

“Sorry, sorry! I know door closed means you're with someone but I found out Moriarty was who you were with and I've been looking everywhere for him. I'll be out of here quickly! I just—.”

Ritsuka steps towards the befuddled man, holding out an Amazones.com box towards him.

“I found out your birthday was today and I wanted to get you something! I'm sorry I was avoiding you, I wanted it to be a surprise and I have a hard time keeping secrets sometimes, so,” she begins to head towards the door, and gives a little wave to Kiara, “Sorry again about this! I hope it wasn't too intrusive.”

The door shuts, and Kiara looks back at Moriarty, who is staring dumbstruck at the box in his hands.

“…Well. Happy birthday, I suppose,” she gestures towards him, “Feel free to open it here.”

“Uh. Right. Of course.”

He makes quick work of the cardboard with the strength afforded to him as a Servant, and he pulls off the packing paper to reveal a white ceramic mug with the words “WORLD'S BEST EVIL DAD” written on it in large, bulky, black font.

“It seems there was never any reason to be concerned,” Kiara covers her mouth, giggling lightly, “Ah…what a very Ritsuka-like gift.”

“…It—It's alright, I suppose,” Moriarty's voice cracks as he just barely gets the words out.

Kiara wordlessly scoots up the box of tissues on her desk. A few seconds pass, and Moriarty shoots up to snatch the whole box away, blubbering like a child.

***

“…Well, what exactly is wrong with you?”

Kiara looks up at Van Gogh, who crosses her legs, folds her hands in her lap, and smiles.

"So much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry fran but that's MY dad *blows a kiss up for my first gssr*


End file.
